"blokes" poems
This is not goodbye - but ‘see you soon’
You left us one dark afternoon
Our time’s run out but then again
I wouldn’t change a single thing.
The laughs we had, the happy times
The years of banter, jokes and rhymes.
Those special moments when we knew
We were meant to be, our love was true.
A man of few words but a massive heart
Dignified, loyal and fun from the start
With your ‘Sid James’ laugh and mother-in-law jokes
(Luckily these were saved for the blokes).
Husband, brother, father, grandad and son
You were loved so much by everyone
I’m so grateful for the years that we had together
The memories, laughter. I will love you forever
There’s a hole left behind in my life but I know
You’re no longer in pain and I must let you go
Just remember that I love you to the moon
This is not goodbye - but just ‘see you soon’
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
The Equalist!
RE: The guerrilla girl’s poster 5% women artists yet 85% of the models are female.
This poster was heralded as a feminist rebuff of misogyny and the male gaze.
It is my opinion: one of the reasons females are more sexualised than males in Western society; is because the majority of women working in a sexualised industry such as modelling, dancing, fashion or *********** choose to perpetuate that role and the connection between *** and femininity; often in industries where females outnumber the men six to one; I'm also aware that the majority of the hierarchy in theses industries are male, it seems their gender solidarity is more concerned with the money; than notions of ****** inequality; thus perpetuating the issue.
Vernacular test:
Step one - Question one:
I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misandry? followed by what is your gender?
Step two - Question two:
I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misogyny? followed by what is your gender?
I did offer any information or allow any of the subjects to see the survey paper, or overhear the question.
Results: 30 subjects took part in the survey; One female knew both words and their meaning, and one female didn't know what Misogyny was. (Two females approached refused to take part in the survey, all men approached engaged.)
Step three - Question three:
I then gave all the subjects the dictionary definition and asked why they thought the vernacular misandry is not as well known as the word misogyny?
(I should add that I too couldn't recall the vernacular meaning of: Misandry; though I could recall the meaning or definition of Misogyny.)
Answers:
Female... "I don't care"
Female... "It's due to a gender economic imbalance"
Female..."Blokes just don't like it when women speak out about it"
Female..."I don't get involved in protests"
Female..."I don't know"
Female..."Men just think with their ******
Female... "There's more misogynists"
Female... "Because men are pigs"
Female... "Why does it mater"
Female... "It's just a word"
Female... "I'm not interested"
Female..."Try being a women"
Female... " It's ******** it's just a vernacular"
Female..."You wouldn't understand your a man"
The other 5 Females... chose to offer no explanation.
Answers:
Male..."I don't know"
Male... "who cares"
Male... "Yeh that's interesting"
Male... Why does it matter"
Male... "Let me think about it"
Male... "Who gives a ****
Male... "What's this about"
Male... "Can I see the results later"
The other 2 males... Chose to offer no explanation.
I personally identify as human; and don't wish to be defined, labeled or marginalised; I also don’t believe that secularism in any measure is healthy or meaningful in an inclusive society.
I question why 29 out of 30 subjects had heard of Misogyny; and just one person had heard of Misandry.
Sexism is not as the dictionary suggested prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination, typically against women.
Everyone is effected buy prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination.
The subtleties of which is played out every day.
Feb 5, 2020
Feb 5, 2020 at 11:32 AM UTC
HATE BEING THE ONE THAT HAS TO BEHAVE
YOU SEE, I KNOW MY BROTHER IS ALLOWED TO SAY WHAT HE WANTS
BUT I HAVE TO WATCH WHAT I SAY, SOMETIMES I AM JUST BEING COOL
I HATE PEOPLE TELLING ME I HAVE TO BE GOOD, LIKE MY PERFECT FAMILY
IT’S HARD TO DISCIPLINED TO, JUST BECAUSE, I MUCKED WITH THE OLD FOGIES
I HATE, HOW PEOPLE TREAT ME LIKE A TOTAL AND UTTER LOSER
YOU SEE, WHY DO PEOPLE TRY AND DISCIPLINE ME, I FIND IT HARD
LIKE I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I HATED DADS DISCIPLINE RULE
I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I AM A NICE PERSON
YOU SEE, IF I GOOF UP, I AM TOLD, I HAVE NO MATES ANYMORE
ALL BECAUSE I SAID SOMETHING OUT OF LINE
I KNOW MY BROTHER HAS A WIFE AND KIDS, AND WAS COOL
AND YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE, PEOPLE ONLY LIKING ME
IF I BEHAVE, CAUSE I AM COOL, MAN, THE COOLEST DUDE IN CANBERRA
I HATE WHEN I HEAR THE VOICES BE LIKE US, WHEN I EXPRESS MYSELF OVER THE WEB
YOU SEE, WHY DO I HAVE TO BE NICE, I AM A COOL AND REGULAR GUY
I DESERVE TO BE LIKED, I DON’T WANT TO BE LIKED FOR BEING PATHETIC, NO WAY
I HAD VOICES FROM THE PARANORMAL, YA SEE I AM A NICE COOL PERSON
WHY CAN’T I ENJOY THINGS, JUST BECAUSE I ****** OFF PEOPLE
I FEEL IF I SEE THESE PEOPLE, THEY WILL SAY TO ME, I WAS WRONG
BUT I HATE BEING DISCIPLINED, PLEASE DON’T DISCIPLINE ME
I AM 45, AND I AIN’T COMMITTING ANY CRIMES, I AM STILL SEEING THESE DUDES
I USED TO GET DRUNK WITH, SOME WERE GOOD BLOKES
IT’S JUST THAT BACK THEN, I WASN’T PREPARED FOR OUR OUTINGS
I LIKE FOOTBALL, AND I LIKE GOING OUT HAVING FUN
AND I DON’T WANT TO BE TOLD TO BEHAVE MYSELF I HATED BEING TREATED LIKE A NICE AND POLITE MAN
WHILE MY MATES CAN BE LEFT ALONE, PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE
I HATE THAT MAN KEN, I HAVE TO BEHAVE FOR HIM
I CAN’T STAND BEHAVING FOR ANYONE, BEHAVING IS DUNB AND BEHAVING IS WRONG
I HATE CATHOLIC MORALS, AND I HATE DISCIPLINE, BUT I FEEL ONLY OLD FOGIES HAVE DISCIPLINE MORALS
I TRY AND BE GOOD, WHEN I GO OUT TO EVENTS, BUTB SOMETIMES IT’S HARD TO EXCEPT DISCIPLINE
CAUSE WHY CAN’T I JUST BE ALLOWED TO MAKE A BIT OF NOISE
I AM ON MEDICATION, YA SEE IT’S MY DESTINATION, I WANT TO BE HAPPY, SO I TAKE MEDICATION
I THOUGHT DAD WAS STARTING TO SEE MY WAY OF LIFE, YOU SEE, I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE A GOOD BOY
BEING A GOOD BOY DOESN’T WORK FOR ME
I WANT TO BE NORMAL, I WANT TO BE LIKED
I SING A SONG, I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH BAZ BOY, CAUSE HE TRIED TO JUST THINK I LIKED DISCIPLINE
I HATE BEING TOLD TO SHUT UP, IF YOU WANT ME TO SHUT UP, I WILL NEVER SHUT UP, CAUSE, I FOLLOW MY OWN STYLE
WHICH IS FUN, I BELIEVE IN HAVING FUN WHEREVER I GO OUT INTO THIS WORLD
I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU CAN’T REALISE, I HATE DISCIPLINE, I DON’T WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE I AM TOO WOOSEY FOR LIFE
I HATE BEING TOLD I HAVE TO BEHAVE, WHY DON’T YOU BEHAVE, YOU TELL ME TO BEHAVE, YOUR A TOTAL LOSER, BUDDY OLE BOY OLE CHUM OLE PAL
I AM GOING TO THE BOTANIC GARDENS TONIGHT, BUT I DON’T WANT TO HANG WITH DISCIPLINE LOVING NERDS
I DON’T DO BEHAVING, OK I WILL NEVER DO BEHAVING, I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE AN OLD FOGIE
I AM A COOL MIDDLE AGER, WHO LOVES TO PARTY
STOP DISCIPLINING ME, YA ****
OR I WILL NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 6:09 PM UTC
When the day comes for me to lay down and be free
I want to be reincarnated and
come back as a tree.
Tall and strong and smelling of pine and living again for a very long time.
In the summer I'll dress in a cool suit of green and give homes to the squirrels who nibble my cones.
My roots will be stable and deep and though unable to walk, I am able to talk with the winds and the birds of the air.
And who is out there and able to see that being reincarnated as a wonderful tree is a beautiful thing?
I shall knit with my needles a song to be sung and sing in the spring when the winter is done.
What fun it will be when I am a tree and being a tree in such good company with the Ash and the Oaks who are such marvelous blokes will be good for me.
When the day comes for me to lay down and be free,I will reach up to the sky and come back as a tree.
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 12:27 AM UTC
you can talk of ******* like it's a joke,
and i wonder at the poor blokes who mean so little to you
i mention *** like it's a secret,
but no one knows my secret and no one notices that i hide
need to keep a lid on the dark,
better to be frigid than afraid of myself
i figure i'll be able to laugh one day,
when the wounds have been opened
and years have passed,
when *** is passe, when ******* is just *******
and i don't know if i'll be myself on that day,
or someone else.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 3:29 AM UTC
Covent Garden.
Midnight.
Revellers and tourists combined.
The market is heaving.
Last trains are leaving.
An eclectic mix to broaden the mind.
Covent Garden.
2am.
The place is pretty quiet.
Pubs have closed.
Clubs.... God knows.
The tourists have frozen their riot.
Covent Garden.
4am.
A drunkard stumbles by.
Flood lit shops.
A rickshaw stops.
The backdrop against a reddish
sky.
Covent Garden.
6am.
Blokes lurk down Langley street.
The glint of a blade.
A blur in the shade.
Lava tip of cigarette falls to a strangers feet.
Covent Garden.
8am.
Commuters emerge from underground stations.
Workers prepare.
Visitors beware.
Pick pockets attracted like gravitation.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
Brackets
Your mum picked you up in daddy’s BMW,
we had to wait an hour while they scrubbed the brains of another son off the roof of the 125
(Why they built a multi storey car park on top of the bus station is a mystery to me.)
You carefully colour coordinated your files and scrutinized your revision schedules,
we watched nicked CCTV footage of two blokes smoking crack and burning down the bowling pavilion next door
(the old boys never did raise enough to repair it.)
You snubbed each other because of different tastes in jumpers,
we watched acid casualties talk politics with football hooligans
(a hastily rolled joint bridged the obvious gap.)
You lounged in the common room in your study periods,
our lesson got cancelled because John had been smashed in the face with a fire extinguisher
(and our tutor used to be a lifeguard.)
You worried about fashion and discussed the injustice of last night’s X Factor result,
we watched Neil’s head crash into his keyboard after he’d scoffed all his methadone in one go
(again.)
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Theres an original Aussie lingo
That out there one can hear~
Most of all when you are in the country
And places like that you love so dear~
RIPPA RITA , An aussie bush expression of rejoice~
When something really goes so well
And usually not by choice~
FAIR DINKUM means simply for real
Are you fair dinkum mate~
STRUTH another real Aussie expression
A bush word for something that you hate~
Just a few words of real Aussie lingo
You might hear now and again~
SEND HER DOWN HUGHY they'll cry
When they reall do need rain~
STONE THE CROWS you'll hear them yell
When something happens by surprise~
Often in the country
When they can't believe their eyes~
HOWZ ZAT a bloke will often call out
when he manages to do something better than right~
And very indeed proud of himself
Without trying to skite~
RIGHTIO dad will call out to mum
When she hollows don't forget to get the bread~
TOO FLAMEN RIGHT he'll say back to her
When she says well ... did ja get it ted~
YA GREAT GALLOOT is what they'll call you
When you do something really wrong~
So much original Aussie lingo
They should put it all within a song~
SHIELA'S are of course suingle women
Who often are as well called BIRDS~
All this fantastic Aussie terminology
How I miss all these words~
Ocker's are usually blokes in shorts and thongs
They call thongs Japanese riding boots~
CODJA'S are older blokes
Sometimes they call them COOT'S~
COCKIES are blokes that own properties
STRIKEN A BLOW is a term for work~
BLUDGERS are those that don't like do do it
And being lazy is to of course SHIRK~
All that age old aussie lingo
I miss it so I do~
Can't wait to say HOWZ YA GOEN MATE
And G DAY to a mate or two~
It's all got a sound of it's own
One gets used to it in life~
Like the LITTLE WOMEN and THE BETTER HALF
Is what they call a wife a wife~
( Was'nt game to use spell check lol )
https://youtu.be/PT331BRkkP0
Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright 2018
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC
Some blokes are full of Dad jokes,
They have a wealth of these and are delivered with the corny expertise that only a Dad has.
They get a grin on their face as they lean forward like they’re about to say something profound.
“I used to be addicted to the Hokey Pokey, but I turned myself around.”
“What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground Beef.”
“I hate Russian Dolls, they’re so full of themselves.”
“Apparently, pet birds are popular this Christmas, they’re flying off the shelves.”
Passed down from Grandads to fathers,
One-liners for us to consume,
It’s the closest thing some have to a family heirloom.
“What did the first African phone user say? Kenya hear me now?”
“A cat's favourite Queen song? Don’t stop meow.”
When reversing his car, “This takes me back.”
Wedding speech, “It’s been an emotional day, even the cakes in tiers.”
There've been so many down the years,
Yes, they’re cringy but we should enjoy them while we can,
You never know what's in store, and they’ll be a time when we’d love to hear them just once more.
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 9:02 PM UTC
You play the Cool Piper every Concert Noon
Change your Clothes; And the Tempo changes you
Why couldn't have I heard you Guys that soon
So I could strangle the Technocrat blue?
HA! I jest. Rarely do Gum-Humours speak
But when they do they leave a Mark aside
I guess this is no time to act so meek
When Spain's Wild Brother calls us for a Ride
And what a Ride! Many Blokes hitch a tug
Collecting Hot Dames they only knew for yonks
It's a Crazy Menu; But quite a hug
Some choose a Bellow; Others a Honky-Tonk.
Long Sonnet Short, your Music is the Boom
Clean your Pipe well and hope to see you soon.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
Folksy blokes, like ya struttin’ ya thang
If you’ve come out of da Grand Ole Opry
But, won’t stay around for any old music sang
If it’s causing their head, to bob up and down and go all floppy
While rugged mountain men riding in some country rodeo
Can just step right up, to a Appalachia recording studio
Put down several tracks and become a worldwide pop star
They sing about hillbilly ways, while cogging or flatfooting from afar
Talking ‘bout wild hogs, gators, foxes & how so many more
Taste so great, using leftovers as bait & making real men roar
Old fables, told through pictures and patterns, upon knitted quilt
Even showing the feuding days of the Hatfields versus McCoys
From both sides of Tug Fork stream, with many unemployed
Although Asa and Devil Anse, said, ‘they hadn’t much guilt’
All because of a judge and 5000 acres of unusable swamp land
Once owned, by a close kissin’ cousin named, Perry Cline
Who didn’t even get any blood on his hand
They started a war, that could’ve been stopped
By a bottle or two, of good ole mountain moon-shine
Both clans almost wiped out, if last man standing had accidentally dropped.
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 10:40 PM UTC
After a string of my relationships didn't work,
And I had dated **** after ****
I realized something was terribly amiss,
With the blokes I was choosing to date and kiss.
So I decided that my standards had to be revised,
And a grand dating checklist had to be devised,
I wouldn't be superfluous about this list,
Instead I'd cover points that I had hitherto missed.
I will not date a man who is already dating,
and for whose commitment I'm kept waiting.
I will not date a man who is involved with his ex,
Who turns to her for sympathy & sometimes ***
I will not date a man who is constantly lying,
Where trust has diminished and is almost dying.
I will not date a man who has been a criminal,
Even if the offense was small and the sentence minimal.
I will not date a man with a violent streak,
Who's ability to control his anger is very weak.
I will not date a man with no career aim,
Who thinks having a physique is cool but a job is lame.
I will not date a man who disrespects his father and mother,
lets face it, if he's mean to them, he wont be nice to any other.
I will not date a man who is abusive and who swears,
Who lacks empathy and who never cares.
I will not date a man who lacks humility,
Who is arrogant, rude and has no civility.
I will not date a man who has been a cheater,
Or a man who is a girlfriend beater.
I will not date a man whose mouth is lined with empty words,
broken promises, shallow tales that he uses like swords,
To cut open my insides and get my defenses down,
only to walk away and never turn around.
Did you see what I just did there?
I will not date a man just because he has glossy hair,
Or just because he has pretty eyes,
because pretty eyes can also tell pretty lies.
I will not date a man who cannot see,
What a flying dragon I am, figuratively,
I am a phenomenally phenomenal woman, that's me,
And I won't date a man who tells me any differently.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 6:51 AM UTC
Short-Termed Maiden of one's Friendship's expect
Then blast my Will to incapacitate
For sharing those Clouds; Though rained your affect
Were twisted to Pure Actions constipate
Just weakened I am to even advise
Why such Hallowed Plug pulled this New Sparkle
If Profile be cased and just inconcise
Ask the Author first if you be Humble
Though such Clues do bear, un-needed to Probe
If my Key was too Foreign for your Door
I suppose, like his Age, you chose that Road
Where Blokes just party and stomp on the floor.
The Korean was right; His Dance we can learn
Though never again your Trust I can earn.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:44 AM UTC
The ballad of a drunken yobho
You see he will go to the club, to watch the match
And he'll start to cheer with te guys
He will make the blokes who support the other team angry
But as long as his team wins, it's ok
And then suddenly from out of the blue
Their team comes back with two great goals, to get it within 3
And he said, we are still in front
And,mate, we have only 2 minutes to go, ya wamker
And suddenly a fight broke out, ***** v *****
And suddenly their wives entered having a girls night down the pub
And I pulled out and they called me a wimp
But I wanted to have good *** and also
Concentrate on keeping a tag on my team
And they still caled me a wimp and suddenly from
Out of the blue, his team won, and I wondered why
And I blamed the referee for a push in the back
But it wasn't, so I pushed my friend in the back
And he went head over turkey into the girls night out
And my girl yelled and I said, sorry, but he was beginning to buy me
He hates our team and he is the reason for them losing
He fixed the game, love he fixes games
That's what he does, he really doesn't but
I wanted calming down *** tonight, so I don't care
And If that makes me a yobho
I am a ***** and I am proud of it
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 6:20 AM UTC
Her honesty is a thing thats rare,
a thing that causes most to stare.
Strangers hear of her akward jokes,
that may be acceptable around only blokes.
The smile that can lighten the dimmest of days,
only surpassed by the music she plays.
She gives and gives till she cries from stress,
which sends me into rediculous distress.
I cannot stand to see you sad!
for without you with me i look mad!
So heres to my friend,
who follows only her own trend!
Kay your great!
and a fantastic mate!
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 5:52 PM UTC
A smoke-filled room, a loud gaffaw, the barmaid pours a beer,
the pub is full of country blokes and Aussie atmosphere.
Some 'Chisel' thru the speakers, the racetrack on the telly,
pool table sending iv'ry ***** to its underbelly.
Walls adorned with history, and heads of native birds,
the Nation'l Anthem in a frame, 'cause no-one knows the words.
An ag'ed man sits in the corner, sipping at his ale,
his teeth are stained, his liver's shot, his ragged skin is pale.
Young buck swaggers in and, as the room lets up a shout,
he tips his head in mock salute and takes his earnings out.
Good mates standing at the bar as jugs are passed around,
the yarns are flowing freely to impress the growing crowd.
The old man in the corner holds his voice above the din,
"You boys want a story, eh? Well, buck up and listen in.
Jus' the other day this feller was sat here at the bar,
he held his glass with steel hook, his cheek, it had a scar.
That scar, it ran from ear to chin, ****** it was shockin',
angry, red and all inflamed, he'd taken quite a coppin'.
With legs the size of tree trunks an' a barrel for a chest,
he looked as though, with just one blow, he'd put a man to rest.
I ventured on the happenings, and nodded to his claws,
he turned to me, quite wearily, and spoke, after a pause."
As if to emulate the mood, the old man waits a bit,
he squints his eyes upon the crowd and makes a show of it.
"This bloke is felling up a tree, 'bout fifty foot or so,
a lightning bolt, he gets a jolt, the chainsaw he lets go.
It backs up from the branch and lops off both his paws,
then, before he thinks to catch 'em, they hit the forest floors.
He’s with them soon enough, as the rest of him descended.
I shakes me head, 'Christ!' I says, tryin' to comprehend it."
The crowd is leaning forward and the air is getting tense,
the old man lights a cigarette, just to build suspense.
He slowly sips at his beer, then lifts his head to speak,
"Me eyes then trail from steel claws to mark upon 'is cheek,
'That how you did your face in, the chainsaw misbehavin'?'
He took a pause, held up his claws, and shrugged, "Cut it shavin'.""
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 4:02 AM UTC
Last night I spoke with Caesar's ghost.
We'd quaffed a glass or two of wine.
But then the ******* made a boast,
How his blokes would be beating mine.
Now, a General I have never been,
I'm saying that reluctantly;
And could not argue what he'd seen.
Thus had to think most carefully.
Therefore I spoke of contact drills,
Of duty weeks and other thrills.
And of the things that I have seen
Tales of what I once had been.
But carefully, not beating breast,
For after all His was the best.
Recounting only what I saw,
Not saying much about my war.
But why not tell of where I've been?
Am I ashamed of what I've seen?
Or, I'm asking, is it wrong
To beat one's chest, to sing one's song?
That man of Caesar's who jumped ship
With Eagle held in calloused grip
Inspiring witnesses to roar
Then wade with him to Britain's shore.
Is he so different? Or might I say
To Caesar, oiy come have a look
At all these men so brave today.
Would you have put them in your book?
No, really what I'd meant to say
To Caesar was that on that day
He'd launched his men through thick and thin
Because he meant those men to win.
Whereas in our bold day and age
No matter who might shout and rage
We don't do that any more.
We'll fight, but not to win the war.
Which is why I left the swine,
Came back to Earth, peered at my wine.
He knew, thus his boasting leers.
I knew he knew, thus my shame and these my tears.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 11:46 PM UTC
The 50's they found Elvis
And boy oh boy could he swing
The best part about him though
Is the boy could also sing
Of course there were many
Who tried his bell to ring
But it was only Elvis
That Rock & Roll crowned King
The 60's were invaded
By a drove of English blokes
From the Beatles to the Kinks to in between
The Rolling of the Stones
But we opened up some Doors
With a few bands of our own
As we headed further down
The road of Rock & Roll
We then watched the disco ball
Spinning round and round
As so went the 70's
With their ups and downs
Suddenly grinding to a halt
Barely with a sound
As fast as it came in
The 70's done left town
Then came in the 80's
Without much fanfare
Out went the disco
In came the hair
Not much more to talk about
That's about it I swear
When it came to the 80's
Not too many really cared
The 90's didn't just drop in
It was more a lunge
They called it rightly Nirvana
The day of the grunge
If you were not up with the times
Then you were counted out to lunch
But with the Jam Aunt Pearl made
I could never get enough
Now we're in the new Millennium
With the singers and their songs
Where went the Rock
Did it Roll off on its own
Never did it say goodbye
Before it was all gone
But I bet the bottom line
It won't be gone for long
Long live Rock&Roll
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
Schools of fish
Racing to the King's submerged hold
To pass a collective wish.
A procession led
Unfathomable leagues between the sky
To the One's bed.
From her birthcry rang
Sonic upon waves in all Seas
Bringing promise she sang.
In a voice that shamed
The very Sirens, their infamy
At birth she had tamed.
Tempests brewed in
Nine Seas and in denizens thereof
The palpable rush was no illusion.
Gargantuan fissures marked
The arrival of the Prophet,
As Dogfishes in the streets barked.
Coral caves echoed
News of the Deliverer
Back across the ocean and forth.
The Princess is birthed!
Rejoice! Swim to the King!
Of enthusiasm, was no dearth.
Millions of clans
Puffer, Cat and Gold, with servants in many
***** Oysters and Clams.
Eels, flying overhead
With Mantas in quick pursuit
Each racing to meet the beloved.
The nobility too was en route
Great White, the Hammer and Tiger
Forgetting around them, all the food.
Clownfish prepared their jokes
Animatedly chuckling at the time
The king called them funny blokes.
From every nook and corner
Of every Ocean, and Sea
Burst life even in lakes and rivers.
Drifting slow yet steady
The convergence occurred at the King's Hold.
The feast now ready.
Reef and plankton
In a million hues waved like banners
Proclaiming the royal standard.
Seahorses stood en garde
All semblance of a heavy cavalry
Songs were sung by the Bard.
Rows upon rows
Of aquatic subjects
Gazed upwards as the Herald bellowed.
All hail King Teal!
All hail the Princess!
The citizens went mad with zeal.
They raised their arms
As the King raised his own pair
Only to raise alarm.
The babe was godly
Hair as green as kelp
Translucent flesh glowing boldly.
Every colour ever known
Etched across her fins and legs
Majestic, regal, radiating joy unknownst.
Tears diluted the currents
As the folk witnessed their saviour
And cheered in a torrent
Of squeals, laughter and shouts
Praising till the land dwellers heard them
These fanatics most devout.
Thus was the day
Naifin was born into the Sea
Queen of Oceans, she was to be.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
The net's a big headache
I need a bloke you see
I search and search for hours
But can't get one for free.
I bought myself a web cam
I thought I could chat and play
But there wern't any blokie blokes
Only the ones that were gay.
Hang on! Who's this?
It's a blokie figure
He looks like me grandad
But me grandad's thinner.
Says his name is Bertie
Asks if I'm into leather
Then said I was a bore
We wouldn't be good together.
Oh wait! I must be dreaming
I see a tanned Blokee
I smile at his picture
He smiles back at me.
He speaks , I can't hear him
He hears, but can't see
I think my PCs broken
Why does it happen to me?
I think I'm in love
I hope he feels the same
Oh **** my PCs crashed
And I never got his name.
© Hazel
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 3:31 PM UTC
Blokes in the bar sure do say some weird stuff
Like "love to **** her ******* and eat her ****
Seem to have animals on their mind all the while
"I'd like to see her ***** or do her doggy style"
What does all that mean? I'd really love to know
And how does a woman have a nice Camel Toe?
If a woman comes close and she's a real **** one
One of them may say "I'd like to give the ferret a run"
A bloke went to the toilet seemed quite annoyed
Said he was gonna shake hands with the unemployed
"You mean syphon the python" asked one of the men
"Not really, just shake hands with the wives best friend"
He said he wanted a ***** to his wife late last night
"Gee mate you shoulda seen it, I had a mongrel alright"
Apparently she said "no" and he threatened to leave her
Said he wasn't hanging around if he didn't get any ******
Fred said his wife was gorgeous and he had always adored
But lately she was off *** didn't want any more pork sword
Frank's wife was the same and she hardly left the cottage
Would never let Frank touch her or play hide the sausage
Max, reckoned he'd nearly had more than a man could take
Couldn't get near the missus with his one eyed trouser snake
As for Gerard, He said "think my wife's taking me for a sucker"
"Told me to keep away with the blue veined custard chucker"
A **** dark woman walked past, Marty said "I'd give her a ride"
The barman just laughed and mumbled "they are all pink inside"
Jack joined in saying "leave it alone Marty or you'll get blisters"
"Besides, if you turn them upside down they're definitely sisters"
In the bar I heard a bloke say "I'd give her the old Wham Bam"
"Sure would like to get the old love muscle up her bearded clam"
As the bar closed Jerry joked " If the flags are up at my place"
"I'll put my ***** between her ***** give her a pearl necklace"
All these men laugh and joke as the barman says to the group
"You buggers won't get any because you'll have brewers droop"
As I finish my wine and leave someone says "on ya bike ya miser"
Do you know what they are on about? because I'm none the wiser
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
When I was just a little kid
I never liked a ****
When I grew up it didn’t change
When I went to work.
I didn’t much like pranks and such
And most practical jokes,
Whoopie cushions, pulled out chairs
And winking, leering blokes.
It was much more annoying to me
When the liars got to win.
It made me want to call them names
And kick them in the shin.
How anyone ever thought well of them
Made no sense to me.
They should have been taken to task
And called the enemy.
Schoolyard antics
Made me frantic
When they harassed the weak
The underweight, those in glasses
Those whose noses were tweaked.
Why didn’t their parents teach
These creeps to be more kind?
Or keep them home full time,
I’m sure nobody would mind.
Now I hate to watch the news
And see how many got elected.
If the average voter doesn’t know
At least they should have suspected
When billions of dollars disappear
And nobody is ever put in prison.
That means there are jerks out there
And that doesn’t take a lot of wisdom.
I sometimes wish Kafka was right
And the evil woke up differently.
Maybe they could be one foot tall
And not quite reach my knee.
Then we could see the crooks arrive
And lock them out of our conventions.
We’d just have to lglance to know
That they have dishonest intentions.
Schoolyard antics
Made me frantic
When they harassed the weak
The underweight, those in glasses
Those whose noses were tweaked.
Why didn’t their parents teach
These creeps to be more kind?
Or keep them home full time,
I’m sure nobody would mind.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
(Read in your best British accent)
Well what can’t I say
Of the so called Baylo Brits
Their weird, crazy, and wild
Smoking herb, and jiggling ****
They giggle and laugh
Acting all so very pip
They’re ****** wankas they are
Especially Fritz and Kip
Not from England
Though they do have a friend named Jack
Witty as hell the blokes really be
Its just sanity they seem to lack
First Hannah said **** off
She’s a lovely poppet of a girl
And all this first came about
As they passed around, a pearl
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 5:05 PM UTC
I sit here in the local laundromat
on a aluminium park bench
amongst the fish eyed dryers
and icberg washing machines
that rumble with never siated
coin fed hunger, the smell of
artificial spring and wet dog
swelling on the humid breeze
In the corner an o.d lady sits
reading a mills and boon love story
two young men stand
leaning against the door frame,
smoking cigarettes, they look
like casual warrior guards, on their day off
all surfer dude tan and body buff
guarding the inner sanctum of local cleanliness
Another mother, you can, tell by the handbag
is playing a game on her tablet, some tinny music
wafts over, and she glances at me with apology in her eyes
I have brought nothing except my phone
on which I am writing this, and carkeys and wallet
I watch the tumble dryers tumble, and am mesmerized
by the kaleidoscope of linens,playing at being acrobats
it is warm and cozy in the evening light, a world apart
Out side on the still warm sidewalk and old dog lounges
his eyes focused on old Mrs Mills and Boon, her load finishes
and as she gets up, so does the dog, both slow and methodical
as she folds her washing the dog noses the air, comes to the doorway, where one of the young blokes offers his hand
for a pat, the dog allows the contact, but his eyes remain on the old lady as she packs her wasing into a wheeled bag,
the pair then leave, walking down the street into the dusk,
the dog's nose mere inches from the old ladies gnarled hand
and his tail wagging furiously. I fell I have witnessed something
beautiful and intimate, as they wander away...
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 5:54 PM UTC
****** flirting with that barmaid like that. He says that he was just having a laugh but I’m sick of it. Everytime we go out it’s the same
“Oh its just a laugh Lucy. Just chill out, get a life”.
“I’ll get a life without you” I told him as I threw my ***** and coke in his face. He was furious but give him his due he didn’t retaliate. He’s a womanising ******** but he has never been violent.
Its dark walking home. Still its only 20 minutes from the pub to my flat. He’d better not think of coming back there, ****** **** its raining. I’ll be drenched. I new that I should have called a cab but I was so het up, not thinking straight.
That blokes been following me for the past few minutes. Don’t panic Lucy it’s a coincidence. He just happens to be going in the same direction as you. I can’t see his face. That hat pulled down almost hiding his eyes, I don’t like it. Christ he’s walking fast, almost running. Keep calm he just wants to get home out of the rain the same as you. But he’s running straight at you. **** the alley’s empty just this ****** and me. Scream, call for help. But he hasn’t done anything, he’s only running. Shout anyway it will scare him away.
“Help, help someone please help”.
There are no houses around here. No one can hear me. I shouldn’t have gone down this short cut, It saves 5 minutes but its taken me away from the main street. Oh Christ why didn’t I call a cab. Please, please god help me. He’s running now. I can here him calling for me to stop. You must be ******* joking mate I’m not stopping for you! I can’t run in these heels. Off they come. I haven’t been to the gym for ages. God I’m so out of condition I’m wheezing like an old man. My chest’s killing me and I’ve a stitch in my right side. Must rest. Can’t rest he’ll catch you. Must stop for a moment. I can’t. Oh **** he’s still gaining on me I wish I’d kept going to the gym with the girls. Please, please no he’s almost on top of me. Run, Run Lucy, must get away. I can see the street lights up ahead. Just one more spurt and your back in civilisation.
He’s waving. What the hell does he expect me to do, I’m not stopping! Oh Christ he’s caught up with me. He’s got something in his hand and he’s pointing it at me. God is it a gun? Why me?
“You left this on the bar. God lady you where in a hurry. I thought I’d never catch up with you. This is your mobile isn’t it?”
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC